


the boy who got away (before finding his way back)

by book_worm321



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: And unimpressed with MACUSA, Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Lives, Credence with long hair, Graves is Pissed, M/M, Post-Movie, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 19:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12660075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/book_worm321/pseuds/book_worm321
Summary: Graves is found, and told that Credence was killed. He is NOT IMPRESSED and will give Madame Picquery a piece of his mind (little does he know, our boy is alive and well).A little reunion fic :)





	the boy who got away (before finding his way back)

**Author's Note:**

> I should be working on my other fic, but this just took over my brain and wouldn't let me go until I wrote it out. #SorryNotSorry
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Graves falls into the chair, cane resting against his thigh.

 

“I knew him. Credence. Before—” His voice chokes. Graves forces himself to keep going.

 

“Before Grindelwald. I knew him. I tried to help him, within the confines of the law, of course. Because the law is so damn _important_ —” His voice catches again.

 

“I’ve come to understand that even the law should yield, sometimes.”

 

This is the first time he has looked the President straight in the eye since they found his desecrating body in the cellar beneath his own home. Hog tied and left on a moldy mattress.

 

“I went out to meet the boy after Tina told me about him. ‘He looks like a ghost,’ she said. I thought she was exaggerating. Led astray by some kind of dormant mothering instinct.”

 

A humorless laugh escapes him, Graves brings a hand up to his mouth to stifle it.

 

“She wasn’t exaggerating. He was like a wraith, pale and thin. Dressed in that awful fraying suit. The only colour he sported was the blood on his hands.” Graves can see it clearly in his mind, the picture Credence had made that day he first met him.

 

“He wouldn’t let me help him at first. Too scared. Or maybe accustomed to betrayal.” The story pours out of him like flood.

 

“It took me weeks to get him to trust me, even a little. I would bring him sandwiches, and hot drinks. Gloves for his hands. He turned it all away, because that damned women would have punished him for it.” Graves can’t keep the venom from his voice.

 

“I did eventually, gain his trust. Enough that he let me heal his palms. But he still refused any physical gifts.”

_Credence turns away the hot chocolate Graves had brought to their meeting, but for the first time, there is a smile on the young man’s face._

_“I need for nothing but your company, Mr. Graves.”_

_Graves believes the whole world could be illuminated by that smile if Credence ever decided the outside world was worthy of seeing it._

 

Graves runs a hand across his face to shake himself out of the memory. “I will always cherish the memory of his first smile.”

 

Graves pauses long enough that the President thinks her commentary is welcomed.

 

“Graves, I— “

 

“No, Madame President,” Graves cuts her off. “You are not sorry, or regretful. You did what you thought was necessary. But,” Graves voice dips low, it vibrates out of his chest, “I am here, telling you these things, to show you that you were _wrong._ ” Graves uses him voice as the weapon he honed it to be. Making his words matter.

 

“Credence was sheltered, abused, torn away from the world in which he belonged and we did _nothing_. We didn’t even know!” Graves’ digs his nails into the arms of the plush chair, attempting to cool his anger. It will not aid him here.

 

“What is the point of having an entire department dedicated to defense if we cannot even defend those who need us the most.”

 

The President has the audacity to look offended. Graves grinds his teeth.

 

“He was innocent, Seraphina. He was one of us, and we didn’t protect him. Hell,” Graves squeezes the armrest with so much force that he feels his nails leave an indent in the wood. “Even if he hadn’t been. Even if he was a Non-Maj, do we not have a moral responsibility to help? We knew about his situation for _months_ , and we demoted the only Auror willing to do anything about his situation.”

 

“Auror Goldstein— “The President tried to interject again, but Graves had no interest in her excuses.

 

“Auror Goldstein is the only one of us that deserves her badge. We should all be ashamed of our complacency. He deserved better, Seraphina.”

 

Suddenly the room is too stifling. The many awards that line the walls of the president’s office turn his stomach. Graves stands, leaning on his cane for support and summons his coat.

 

“He deserved better.”

 

With that, Graves leaves.

 

Some days later, the entire MACUSA building is aware of Graves’ scene in the President’s office. Some agree with his comments, but most don’t. So, when Graves hears a knock at his front door, he assumes it will be a group of unhappy Aurors. He does not expect, however, to find a rather twitchy Tina on his door step.

 

“You need to come with me, Sir.” She says.

 

“What on earth for, Tina?”

 

“Sir, it’s important. Please, just…” She sticks out her arm, signalling that she wants to side-along him somewhere.

 

Maybe it is out of boredom, or some innate recklessness, but Graves takes her arm without further protest.

 

They arrive at an apartment complex, and Tina quietly ushers him upstairs into what can only be her own apartment.

 

“Tina, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?”

 

Tina doesn’t spare him a single glance, “Just take a seat, Sir.”

 

At this, Graves starts to bristle. He stays standing out of spite “I want you to tell me what the hell is going on, Tina.”

 

Tina seems torn between whatever it is she is hiding, and her deeply ingrained sense of duty.

 

The former wins out, she keeps her silence. Instead she knocks on what appears to be a bedroom door. “He’s here, you can come out now.”

 

A muffled reply comes from through the door. Graves can’t make out what it is, but it appears to be enough for Tina. She nods to herself and makes for the front door again.

 

Before departing, she turns to Graves one last time and tells him, with more confidence then he has ever seen from her, “If you hurt him, we will have words, Mr. Graves.”

 

Graves is left to stare at her retreating back. What in the world…

 

The bedroom door that Tina had knocked on previously opens.

 

Graves doesn’t know what he expected. Is he dreaming? No, even his dreams did not do Credence this much justice.

 

The young man is as pale as he had always been, but there is now a delicate, healthy flush to his cheeks and lips. His hair is much longer, curling delicately around his face, softening his sharp features. He’s dressed casually, just a pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt. They look very soft. _He_ looks soft.

 

Graves considers himself a very skilled orator. He has always had the ability to find the right words to express himself and endear himself to others. The ability escapes him now.

 

“Oh.”

 

Credence bites into his lower lip, hands wringing together nervously. “Mr. Graves.”

 

Graves tries to walk forward, but his legs just give out under him. He lands on his knees, cane forgotten. He doesn’t mind much, he will happily beg forgiveness at Credence’s feet if that is what it takes.

 

“Mr. Graves?” Credence says again, slightly distressed.

 

These emotions he had not believes his body capable of feeling bubbled in Graves’ chest, pushing up into his throat. His heart is about to jump out of his chest, but Graves couldn’t seem to make his limbs _move_. So, he stays on the floor and just stares.

 

The younger man is the one to close the distance. He drops to his knees before Graves.

 

“Tina, she explained that there were two of you.” Credence’s hands are cradle Graves’ jaw. “That the other one stole your face.” Credence’s voice is softer than he remembers, ethereal.

 

“You’re alive.” Is all Graves can manage.

 

Credence squeezes his cheeks together to get the older man to focus. “When was the last time it was you?” The question is a hesitant breath. Like the younger man isn’t sure if he wants the answer.

 

“I tried to give you gloves. You wouldn’t take them, so I gave you a hug instead.”

 

Credence closes his eyes, reliving the memory, a small smile on his lips.

 

“I thought so.” Credence agrees finally.

 

“Oh?”

 

“The other one didn’t give hugs as well as you.”

 

Graves can’t help but laugh. Of all the things to notice.

 

Credence joins in the laughter, and they can’t seem to stop. They keep laughing, and laughing, until they aren’t laughing at all, but crying. Graves doesn’t know who shed the first tear, but they hold on to each other, their bodies heaving sobs.

 

Hours later, they are still huddled on the floor. Credence nestled under Graves’ arm, head resting over his heart. The older man’s back hurts, and his legs are going numb, but, in this moment he would not move for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! It was so much fun to write. Drop me a comment and let me know what you thought :)
> 
> Also, you can find me on tumblr: https://book-worm321.tumblr.com/


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